The Hans of Anubis

Sun beat down on the well-worn path from the science wing of Myrdan's University. It would, at least, if the path wasn't yet again filled by the constant to-and-fro of young college-goers. The flow of students trampled anything in its path; discarded paper cups and fallen leaves from the nearby blossomed trees were the most common casualties, however the occasional flyer of themed events punctuated the urban litter. Few things could split this stream of people; accidents, emergencies... and Hans the bat.

Of course, it helped that he was shouting. 

"Out of the way, please!" He yelled above the din of idle chatter. "Coming through!"  His view was still full of students panickingly darting out of the way, the front wheel of his rickety bike almost snagging a tail or two despite his vocal efforts to warn them. 

"I swear," Hans said under his breath as he barely scraped by a pack of hyenas, "this would be so much easier if I was an elephant..." 

Eventually, he did manage to get to the main entrance of the building's biology wing. He'd caught a few feathers on the spokes of his front wheel from a student who wasn’t quite quick enough, but nothing that wouldn't be regrown. He tutted to himself, bound his bike to a nearby bike rack situated just next to the doors, removed his helmet and darted inside. If he was very fast, and very, very lucky, he might not be-- 

"Late again, Hans?" 

Hans froze mid-step, and gulped. That was the voice of his ancient cultures professor. Slowly, he turned on his heel and put on his best, most apologetic smile. "M-mister Sibuna! I was just--" 

"Just on your way to waste my time again, I see." The tall hound interrupted. His eyes narrowed down at the young bat, apparently unphased by the student's attempt at puppy dog eyes. Hans supposed they wouldn't work on someone who had experienced actual puppies... 

"You know, Hans, I really did expect better from you today." Mr. Sibuna tuttered. "I've noticed a lot of students have left my class recently, but I did not sense you would be one of them." 

Hans winced internally. "I'm n-not leaving your class, Mr. Sibuna, I w-was just... there was a lot of t-traffic outside today, and--" 

"My dwindling numbers aside, this is the fourth time you've been late to my class. I only came out here to get a coffee, and if they're not too busy messing around in my absence, the other students are already preparing notes from yesterday. Notes which you don't seem to have on you." The hound looked Hans up and down, seeming to notice his light summer jacket and subtle lack of backpack. 

"Well, N-no, but only b-because--"

"Because you didn't attend my class yesterday, and thus were unable to take notes. Yes, I gathered." The two stood in comparative silence to the rest of the students, who had left a gap in the hallway body stream for their encounter. Part of Hans wished it would simply close up and wash him away for good. 

"Hans," The professor spoke eventually, breaking the metaphorical silence. "You're a good student. One of my best, I dare say. Don't let it go to your head." The hound quickly added, seeing Hans' eyes widen with pride slightly. "I don't want to fail you on my class, so I thought... just in case you did happen to arrive today, I'd give you a small reminder. Follow me." 

Hans followed the professor's limp tail which hung from his drab, pressed trousers as they re-joined the flow of bodies drifting through the packed corridor. The gap where they were closed up behind them, as if conducted in perfect synchronicity by some unseen force. 

Through the chattering hallways and past the melodramatic stories of college students around them, the two eventually made their way to the professors lounge; a room rarely occupied but nevertheless always well-stocked. At least, if you believe the rumours. 

"Wait here." The professor demanded. Hans stood stock still against the painted wall of the corridor as the professor slid inside, closing the door behind him. Hans couldn't help but feel like he was in trouble; maybe it was because this reminded of the one time he got in trouble in high school and had to wait outside the principal's office. He probably wasn't in trouble, he tried to reassure himself. After all, the professor said it was a gift, right? 

Hans shook his head, trying to dispel the freshly learned knowledge that plenty of civilizations had given 'gifts' to others as a way to conquer them from within. "At least I've learned something from the classes I -have- attended." Hans muttered to himself. 

After what seemed like an age of watching people go by, busily living their lives and trying not to get expelled, the door to the lounge once again opened and Mr. Sibuna reappeared. The professor was holding a small wooden box, and although his expression hadn't changed from the somber half-glare that seemed bred into his facial structure, his tone was certainly more chipper. "Here," He said, extending his paws outwards. "This is for you, if you want it." 

The small wooden box seemed innocent enough, Hans thought to himself as he took it into his claws. Lighter than expected, too. Probably too small for an expulsion letter.

"Well?" The professor asked impatiently. "Are you going to open it, or just stare at it for a while?" 

"S-sorry. I guess I'm just a bit... slow today." Hans said meekly. He pushed the square wooden lid open, and tilted his head. Inside and nestled amongst what seemed like dried straw was a small piece of what seemed like gold, poured into the shape of an egyptian ankh.

"It's an... ankh." The hound said softly. "My sister was participating in a dig in Cynopolis over the weekend and brought me back a few... odds and ends." 

Hans breathed softly as he pulled the ankh out of its box, watching it gleam in the harsh fluorescent light of the college hallway. It was attached to a simple metal chain, the kind typically used by those with fur too short to be trapped by such jewelry. "You're giving me this?" He asked, genuinely surprised. 

The professor rolled his eyes. "If it keeps you coming to my class, which will boost the number of my attending students and keep the entire course from being suspended due to budget cuts, then yes. It's yours." Hans suddenly felt a little guilty about taking the gift, but by some strange kind of magic it was already in his pocket, and he was quite sure he wouldn't want to offend whoever put it there by putting it back again. 

"I'll take that box back, thank you." Sibuna said, taking the carved box back from Hans' claws. "This is original too, and quite expensive as you might imagine." Hans nodded meekly. He had noticed the professor's mild grin, and suddenly realised he hadn't stopped grinning himself since he'd received the ankh. "Uh... t-thank you, professor. I promise t-to try and make it to your next class." 

The hound treated him to a rarely seem smile. His eyes locked with Hans' own over the professor's half-moon glasses. A hand was placed tentatively on Hans' shoulder. Gentle enough to be comforting, but not firm enough to warrant a visit from the HR department. A practiced art Hans was thrilled to experience. "You're a good kid, Hans." Sibuna said, smiling. "If you miss another of my classes after this, I'm going to sacrifice you to the old gods. Understood?" 

A beat passed, both sets of eyes staring at one another, before the two burst out into laughter. "Sure thing, Mister Sibuna." Hans said happily, holding the ankh firmly in his pocket as he took a couple of steps away from the professor. "I'll be there tomorrow, I promise." 

"I'll hold you to that!" The professor replied, giving a brief wave to the bat as he was once again reclaimed by the swell of students. Hans bounced along happily to his next lesson, and the one after that, all the while holding onto his precious gold ankh. It was so rare for students to be treated like real people by faculty staff, he guessed it was due to the huge volume of students passing in and out of classes each day. It felt amazing to be recognised not only as a real person, but as somehow special. Hans felt revitalized, and the feeling lasted all the way through his last lesson. 

As the final notes on rodent history were jotted down and books were being packed into backpacks, Hans found himself prodded awake from his unexpected daydream. "Hrm? Oh. Hey, Freya." 

Freya was his rodent... friend. He was never clear what kind of rodent she was, exactly; he suspected she didn't know either. Her speckled fur spread around her unremarkable face, ending at her typical rodent ears. Her eyes were wide as they stared at Hans, sparkling with curiosity, yet brown and not particularly bright. Hans liked her just fine, and treated her like any other friend, but it wasn't until she started taking the Rodent History course with him that he'd found her anything but average. Since taking a course, she had become significantly more... talkative.

"I heard something today, Hans." She said with what he suspected was an attempt at a serious tone. Her tight-lipped smile gave away her excitement. "Professor Sibuna said his sister Shir was on a dig in Egypt, and brought stuff back to him!" She blurted out, not waiting for a response out of her friend. Hans blinked, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "Uh... yeah." He said, lamely. "He told me that too. In fact--" 

"A-and apparently he gave a student some talisman!" Freya continued, far too preoccupied by her gossip to consider what Hans was saying. He stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Yeah, Freya, I know that." The rodent leant back in her seat slightly and crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Did you also know that she wasn't meant to?" 

Hans tilted his head slightly, and Freya's grin widened. "Yeah, I bet you didn't, mister smarty pants, professor of wrongitude." 

"What do you mean, she wasn't 'meant' to? Isn't that was archeology is all about? Taking stuff from the ground and like... putting it in places?" Archeology was an elective.

Freya rolled her eyes. "No, dummy. I mean, yeah, sure, you sometimes take some stuff from the ground, but then you give them to a museum! O-or, or like, back to the culture that it belongs to! You certainly don't just go and give it to your brother to stash away somewhere, or give to some kid." 

Hans was starting to sweat slightly. "So it's like... illegal?" He asked, trying his best not to let his worry influence his voice. Not like Freya would have noticed; she was far too preoccupied by the sheer scandal of it all.

"Uhhh, yeah, duh." She muttered dismissively. The rodent took an exaggerated look around to see if anybody was listening, before leaning towards Hans. He found himself leaning in instinctively, his worry starting to creep up his spine. "They say she's been doing it for years, just never got caught! They only caught her this time because some guy she was bribing at the international goods exchange ratted her out." She said, pausing for a moment to add; "I-I mean, betrayed her. Ratting someone out is a... harmful stereotype. Besides that, I think he was a hor--" 

"Wait, caught her doing... what?" Hans' eyes widened slightly. He was starting to become aware of a mild twitch in his left ear, and if he didn't stop getting anxious soon, it was going to be a sure sign that he was hiding something. The ankh felt hot in his pocket.

Freya took another melodramatic look around her, and leaned in to Han's ear to whisper. "Smuggling!" Hans began to Officially Panic. "They say she's been stealing artifacts for ages now! They found a whole collection in her apartment! Some say she's a part of some big cult or something. The professor says he had no idea." 

"O-ooh..." Hans muttered, deflated in his uncomfortable seat. His wings were getting itchy, his throat was hoarse, and he had that impending sense of doom that usually overcame people just before a massive natural disaster. 

"So yeah, like... isn't that the wildest thing? Do you think the professor was in on it?" Freya twitched excitedly in her seat. "He did give it to a student, after all. I dunno if he'd do that if he knew what it was worth to the people of Egypt."
Hans managed a smile, barely. 

"I don't think he knew. I mean, I'm in his class, and he doesn't seem the type t-to... help with stuff like that. I think he'd have said something, right?" 

Freya shrugged. "I dunno. I only found out today because my cousin - you know, the one with the thing on her tail - she heard from Dizzibear, the one with the gut who has young boys hang around all the time? Anyway, he said that--" 

One of the best things about being a bat, Hans thought to himself as he subtly swivelled his ears away from Freya, is that you can actively tune people out once they start rambling. It was good that Freya now seemed to have self-confidence, but she hadn't gotten to the part where she learns to turn her mouth off yet. Hans could instead concentrate on other things, like the opening and closing of doors, the busy footfalls of students out in the corridor... literally anything would be more interesting, he thought to himself. 

" ...and he told her that she couldn't even lift the box if she tried, so of COURSE, since y'know, she does weights and all that other lesbian stuff, she lifted it no trouble, and then HE said--" 

"Listen, I think I need to go." Hans said, quickly getting up and backing off to signify his leaviture. "I-I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" He waved her goodbye and turned towards the exit, only hearing a blissfully short "O-okay! See you tomorrow!" in return. Once he entered the hallway outside the classroom, he gave out a short sigh of relief. 

At least Freya wasn't interested enough in his life to know too much, but that still left him with the problem of what exactly to do with the ankh. He held it tightly in his pocket, tightly enough for it to leave an impression on his fine skin. He made his way to the exit of the wing, but everything seemed to be going in slow motion. 

His head bustled with thoughts, with questions. Did the professor know? Was he setting Hans up to get caught by the police, or... interpol or something? Who would actually handle the proceedings there? Maybe the egyptian military? No, the military wouldn't get involved in something like this, surely. Then again, if it's a big enough scandal, maybe they'd see it as a kind of act of war, or at very lea-- 

Hans was so deep in thought that he didn't see the puddle of water that had gathered under the leaky ceiling tile just outside the building's main office. His sneaker hit the wet concrete tiles at an angle, slid upwards, and just as his mind went blank and Hans saw the stars in front of him... everything went black.

--

Darkness consumed Hans. There was no light, no shadows, no up, no down. He tried to move, but found himself... not unable to move, but unable to feel. He couldn't tell where his limbs were. He tried to open his mouth to speak, and felt nothing; no rush of air, no strain of his voice box as he attempted to call out into the darkness. He wasn't stuck, or restrained. 

For the time being, Hans simply was. 

He didn't know how long had passed since he arrived in this place. He didn't even really know he was here, after all; the only thing reassuring him that he still existed was the ever-present inner monologue he had, trying to confirm he hadn't gone insane. It seemed reasonable, given the total lack of outside input, that he should remind himself of what he DID know. 

"Okay," he mouthed to himself. He couldn't hear himself or feel his jaw moving, but it made him feel better. "What is the last thing I remember?" 

He suddenly drew a blank. He couldn't remember what he last remembered. Panic began to wrap itself around what Hans could only assume was his chest. Not that he could tell he was breathing before, but now he was worried he wouldn't be able to regardless. 

"Calm down." He spoke silently to himself. "This is just... a nightmare." 
He didn't convince himself, but he felt a little better that somebody would be willing to lie for his own comfort. Even if it was just himself. 

Suddenly, there was movement. Something happened, which from Hans' perspective was a damn sight better than nothing. He still couldn't see anything, but he got the impression he was moving, rocking gently sideways, moving... down? No, forward. He was laying down. Yes! He could feel it now; the subtle texture against his head, the slightly wet feeling. He was on a raft. 

Hans sat up. He could see again... sort of. Maybe it was just that before, there was nothing to see; just an ocean of inky blackness stretching as far as the eye couldn't see. He could see the raft though; it was quite nice, as far as rafts go. Two large, carved logs either side supporting a bare wooden platform. It was illuminated by some unseen ambient light. He looked at his claws, his legs and his feet. Yep, all there. For some reason he was still wearing his light summer jacket, jeans and sneakers, but at least whoever had put him here had the decency to keep him dressed.

With his presence of body and clothing accepted, he carefully crawled to the edge of the raft and looked down at what was supporting his raft. 

It was nothing. No water, no glistening hint of a dark liquid suspending him. Just... more blackness. He cautiously crawled back again. 

"One hell of a nightmare." Hans muttered to himself, darkly delighted that he could at least hear himself now. 

Out of the darkness, a voice was felt. He didn't hear it with his ears, he felt it with all of his being, and it chilled him to the core...

CONFESS.

“Um.” Hans replied.

CONFESS.

“Hello?” He tried. There seemed to be a pause. Hans squirmed a little in the awkward non-place silence. “A-are… am I... dead?” 

More silence followed. Then, as Hans’ ears turned this way and that, he could just pick up the faint murmurings of… something. He was getting pretty tired of the mystery of the situation. Even if he was dead, that meant that this was some sort of after life, and what kind of afterlife spirits or whatever don’t give you proper answers? Hans’ self-confidence classes had done him wonders in confronting situations that demanded it, and he felt like this was one of them. 

“Listen, whoever you are… whatever you are, I want answers. I have rights!” He called into the darkness. There was no echo, but a faint voice repeated back to him from the darkness. “Rites…”

Suddenly, there was light. Real light, so bright it made Hans blink in confusion. The wood under his feet shifted and twisted, almost making him lose balance in the second that it happened, but a moment later, he was standing on firm ground once more. As his eyes adjusted away from the inky depths that it had started to grow accustomed to, he noticed that he wasn’t stood on that rickety raft, and he also wasn’t alone. 

In front of him, seated on a tall stone throne, was a figure of total darkness, a hole in the universe that Hans’ mind could barely comprehend. It was adorned in gold markings punctuating its lack of physicality, its white eyes pierced the air between itself and Hans, making them appear significantly closer than they were. The tall, lightly toned figure leaned forwards, angling its gold-pointed ears upwards in a sign of attentiveness. Hans didn’t see a mouth; he only knew the figure was leaning towards him thanks to the brilliant golden neck piece that the figure wore. It spoke again, wordless yet demanding.

CONFESS

Hans swallowed. Glancing quickly around the throne (since his eyes would very much not like to stare into the Nothing Monster), he quickly gathered a few key details in the seconds he had to respond. Golden weighing scales. Bloody feather. I think that’s a… staff? He’s wearing what looks like a skirt. Gold. Egypt. Ancient. Hans also noted a few doors surrounding the room, each one sealed with a menacing looking door four times his height. Probably for the nothing monster, he reasoned. 

“U-uuhhehheeee...eh…?” He squeaked out. The figure, if it could have looked like anything, looked unimpressed. It leaned back in its giant throne, and narrowed its beaming white eyes. 

Confess your sins, mortal, that you may be judged.

The voice was… not quieter, since it had no audible volume, but it certainly felt less harsh. Hans bit his tongue gently and tried to mentally shake himself. Alright, wild, slightly educated stab in the dark here, but...

“I’m… dead.” Hans muttered as loudly as his nerves would let him. The figure’s head tilted slightly. 

Yes, mortal. 

“A-and you… are… Anubis.” He uttered under his breath.

...Yes. You are witnessed. Confess.

“R-right.” Hans said, holding up both paws and trying to smile non-threateningly. “Just, um… Could I p-please t-take… just a m-moment? I want t-to be absolutely sure I got th-that right.” A brief silence underlaid Hans’ heavy breathing. His mind was racing, but he couldn’t argue with what he was seeing. Then again, if he was dead… surely he’d know, right? Besides, Anubis? Hans may have missed a few of the ancient cultures classes, but he was fairly certain you had to like, believe in a deity to be greeted by them in the afterlife.

Have you had enough time, mortal?

Hans held up a hand to Anubis. “Give me a minute, would you? Aren’t you immortal? Don’t you have all the time in the universe? What’s the rush here, exactly? Give me a damned minute.” 

It took a moment for Hans to parse what he just said, and who he just said it to. He wanted to apologise, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, but he appeared frozen by sheer force of panic. He couldn’t move a muscle, and so he was stuck there, one palm raised dismissively in the air, looking to the sandy floor of this… throne room. 

“Where are we?” He squeaked. Hans cleared his throat, turned to the giant being, and tried again. “Ahem. Where are we?”

Have you followed the rites? 
You are in the room of judgement.

Hans nodded sagely. I have no idea what that means, he thought to himself, but that’s probably a bad place to be for any college student.

“I see.” Hans lied. “And y-you want me to c-confess to… what, exactly?” To Hans’ surprise, the giant figure looked almost… confused. Not that it was easy to tell what was going on with a face so dark you might fall into it if you look at it hard enough. With a great lurching and moving of air, the tall figure stood up; he was easily high enough to crush Hans underfoot and not even feel it. ...Or was he six feet tall? Suddenly, Hans felt unsure of his sense of depth. All of a sudden, this great, tall, hulking figure he was certain was taller than a house looked… relatively normal sized. 

Confess the sins of your mortal life, so your heart may be weighed.

“...R-right.” Hans stuttered. “S-see, the thing about that is… I… don’t… want my heart to be torn out of my chest by some big scary monster god thing?” 

The apparently-regular-sized beast squinted at him.

You do not want to be judged?

Hans shook his head silently, his nervous grin threatening to tear his face in two. 

All of my children who pass from the mortal realm to here wish to be judged. 
Surely, you are mistaken. Why else would you have gone through the rites?

“N-no, I’m… I didn’t even know I was dead until you told me. W-well, confirmed it, anyway.” Hans muttered softly. It didn’t seem to matter how quietly he spoke, the being seemed to understand the words that came out of his mouth before he even said them. “I-I don’t know why I-I’m… here.” Once again, Anubis seemed… surprised. Shocked, even. He turned away from Hans (granting the bat ample time to take up all those breaths he’d forgotten to take while the god was staring at him) and growled something under his breath. 

You are lying.

The god said after a long pause. He pointed a single, clawed finger at Hans’ chest and narrowed his cosmically bright eyes. Hans could feel his death approaching on the wings of fate.

Confess, or you will be devoured!

“N-not lying!” Hans said, holding up his claws as if that would prove anything. “I-I’m just as s-surprised as you! ...P-please don’t… devour me.” He whispered, barely able to squeeze the words out from his panicked throat. It didn’t help much; Anubis only seemed to get even more frustrated by his lack of confession. 

I would not devour a mortal! Osiris wou-- wait, do you really not know this?
Have your priests not prepared you for ANY of this?

His voice seeming to have calmed down slightly and the claw removed from Hans’ general direction, Anubis scratched the back of his impossibly dark neck. Hans weakened his smile to one of confused humour. “I… guess not? L-last thing I remember I w-was… in college!” 

Schooling? At your age, you should have been working. Are you… simple?

Hans was slightly taken aback. “Simple!? I’m the top of my class!” He crossed his arms. 

Is it a class of simple people?

Hans narrowed his eyes. Anubis seemed to be enjoying this, somehow. “I’m dead, right?” Hans said flatly. Anubis’ eyes implied a nod. “Then… what? Judgement I guess, I get that, but what happens after?” 

Anubis sighed a deep, ancient sigh. It sounded like crypts being aired. Your heart will be weighed. If it is heavier than a feather of the wing of Maat, your soul-- Here Anubis gestured to Hans’ general body area, will be fed to Osiris… if he can be bothered to show up, that is.

Hans leaned forwards slightly. Anubis seemed to have clasped the bridge of what would be his nose area with two of his golden claws. “Are y-you… okay? I mean, I’m dead, but you seem a bit… frustrated.” Anubis locked eyes with Hans, who thought if he wasn’t dead already, that’d definitely do it. 

You don’t understand. This has not been done in a very long time. The others found themselves… preoccupied.

Hans tilted his head slightly. “The… like, the old gods? What could old gods possibly get preoccupied by?” 

Honey. Anubis said flatly. It came with a tone of someone who had been storing up frustrations for a very, very long time, unable or unwilling to speak about them until now. 

“H-honey?” Hans asked curiously. 

Osiris, he makes HONEY now. He got into it a couple dozen centuries ago. He is not bad at it, I will admit, however as I told him at the time our duties to the mortals come first, and SHOULD come first!  Then Thoth thought, hey, if Osiris can leave, why could he not also go? He left to persue his interest in river toads. Of all things! Oh, they say it doesn’t matter, that our believers are so few and far between that just one of us can handle the simple task of sheparding the souls to the rightious passages, yet--! Anubis emphatically gestured towards Hans in an increasingly frustrated manner. Here you are! Totally unaware of our customs, utterly ignorant of last rites, and for the passing sun’s journey, you barely even knew who I was!

“The scales did kinda tip me off…” Hans admitted, raising his claws defensively again. “B-but, if you have to be a believer to get in here, then what am I doing here? Who performed my last rites?” 

The two stood there for a moment in utter silence. The kind of silence that lays on top of everything like a thick foam blanket. Eventually Anubis turned sharply away from Hans and took two steps forward. Let’s find out. Come with me.

Hans obediently hopped behind Anubis, carefully dodging his short, swiping tail. He could tell that the jackal god was very angry at something, but he couldn’t really do anything about that. After all, Hans was just a bat, where as Anubis… 

Before he could finish that thought, he found himself back in the emptiness. Once again, there was no feeling, no movement, no sounds to be hear-- 

Fucking typical.

“           ?” Hans tried to speak, but once again nothing came out. He felt like his intentions were heard, though. 

You did not happen to see a four-headed snake around here, did you? Or two very tall snakes with very long swords?

“                   .” Hans responded, shrugging just in case Anubis could see him. “                “ He tried to add. Another crypt-air sigh surrounded the bat. I did not think so. They were supposed to greet you, but perhaps they left with everybody else. Come now, it should not be far.

Hans couldn’t really tell what “far” was in this place, or even if such things as distance could exist in the first place, but he did his best to wiggle his legs in a forward-thrusting motion and hoped that he was doing the right thing. He downright stumbled once his body-- or rather, spirit -- finally rematerialised. He caught himself from falling face-first onto white tiles, brightly lit from above. Something was very strange about them; not just that they were the first tiles Hans had seen since dying, but there was something… odd about the way they reflected light. He looked up, and found himself just behind Anubis in a hospital ward. 

“W-what… where are we now?” Hans asked softly, surprised at the sound of his own voice. The darkness really stuck with him, at the edges of his mind. He hoped he wouldn’t have to go back there again. When he didn’t get a response, he started to look around in a mild panic. “A-an… Anubis?” He called out, then after swallowing, “...God?” 

What witchery is this?!
The… presence of voice came from a nearby room. Hans quickly padded over to the doorway, where he saw a to things nobody should ever see. 

Anubis had form now. He was no longer a hole in the world; his fur had texture, his ears had depth. He had his finely muscled back turned to Hans, who could easily make out the frustrated swaying of the canine’s leg-sized tail, leading up to his… skirt. Yes. Hans thought to himself, suddenly finding himself staring straight ahead at Nothing In Particular. Just his skirt. That’s all I was looking at. Not the shape of-- of anything! Just the gold and white skirt. Yes. What a nice skirt. Very … fitting. 

Was this you? Anubis demanded. He turned to look at Hans, his brilliant white eyes now faded to a lesser, but still startling brightness. Hans could even make out his shining green irises. 

Well? 

“Oh, uh… right.” Hans shook himself mentally and glanced over at the bed. There was someone in there; covered up pretty tightly by the looks of things, with a heart monitor, a thick bandage around the head covering most of the face, and a single wing poking out from under the tight covers. He shrugged. “I don’t think I know them.” 

Anubis looked utterly unconvinced. Do not try and decieve me. He muttered, with just a hint of growl underlining the seriousness of his statement. Hans carefully crept closer, the emerald green eyes of Anubis watching his every move. As he got closer, Hans did recognise the parts of the body he could see, but he couldn’t quite tell where from. It was a bat, like him, for sure. The sneakers on the nearby chair even looked like his own, too, and even though the face was mostly obscured by bandages, the ears… looked… 

Hans slammed his body against the far wall. “T-that’s…!” He gulped in air, but it wasn’t enough. His chest felt like it was imploding. He pointed desperately from himself, to Anubis, to his body laying in that hospital bed. Anubis rolled his eyes. Relax, mortal.

“E-easy f-f-for y-you to s-say! I-I’m the one w-who’s d-dead!”  Everything seemed to have become very, very real for Hans. Before, he could excuse this whole ‘gods of the afterlife’ thing as a dream, but seeing his very real body in a very real hospital bed, wrapped in very real bandages… it was just too compelling to ignore.

No, you are not. Anubis said flatly. 
“B-but y-you s-said, a-and in the… with the…” The bat listed off.

The jackal pointed lazily at the body on the bed and waited a few moments for Hans to stop panicking quite so much. Sure enough, as his eyes stared at his own body, he did notice the chest slowly rise and fall. You are not DEAD, mortal. You should not have come to me. I only deal in spirits that are meant to pass over to the next life.

Hans didn’t really know what to think, but he kept himself braced against the far wall, just in case. “T-then… why am I… why am I with you?” Anubis shrugged. 

He SHRUGGED. God of death, courier to the afterlife, standing in front of me, and he SHRUGGED. Hans narrowed his eyes. “You’re a GOD!” He said, raising his voice slightly. “Aren’t you meant to be all-knowing?!” 

Not my department.

“N-not your… what?! Since when do old gods speak like that?!” 

Speak like what? I am speaking the same Royal Egyptian as you. Perhaps with less… strange quirks. I do not think I sound as angry either, if that helps.

Hans paused. “...I’m not speaking Egyptian. I don’t even know how to speak Egyptian.” 

For the first time since his apparent not-death, Hans saw Anubis smile. His two sharpest teeth poked out from under his lip, which was actually kind of cute, Hans thought. For a god, anyway. “What’s so funny?” He asked, the frustration, fear, and anger subsiding slightly.

You just said “I do not know how to speak Egyptian” in Egyptian.

Hans slid down the wall until he was in a sitting position, staring straight ahead. “This is insane.” He muttered to himself. To his horror and subsequent surprise, Anubis walked towards him, leant against the wall beside him and slid into a sitting position as well. The two were on equal ground. God and mortal, sitting together on a cold hospital room floor, and for some reason all Hans could think of was how hard he was trying not to look up this particular god’s skirt. Hans noticed his curiosity begin to pique. Do they… do they even have--

Do you pray? Anubis asked, his genuinely curious tone ripping the bat away from his train of thought. Hans recovered quickly, and gave him a Look. “Pray to who, you?” Anybody. Any deity who may have... mistakenly left your spirit in a place it does not belong. Anubis said delicately. Hans nodded in understanding. “I think I see what you mean, but… sorry, no. I never really… believed in this kind of thing, you know?” 

There was an awkward pause.

“I… guess not.” He muttered.

Then I do not know why you came to be in my care. I cannot take you to your place of rest before you have died. It is… not possible.

Both bat and god sat there in that quiet hospital room, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Hans started to notice that each time there was a beep, one of Anubis’ ears would twitch involuntarily. He probably wasn’t even aware of it. For some strange reason, this made Hans feel a lot better about the situation. Sure, he may be dead, or near death, he may even be sitting with a god who doesn’t even know what to do with him, but that same god is twitching his ear like a puppy hearing a bird sing for the first time. 

“It’s a heart monitor.” Hans said softly. Anubis looked at him with a blank expression. “You know, like… it… keeps track of how his-- how my heart is beating. To let people know if it stops.”

Why?

“Well, so they can restart it. Keep me alive, keep anybody alive for a little longer, until they get better.” 

Anubis seemed slightly troubled by this, and shifted his weight around slightly as if the floor was suddenly made slightly uncomfortable. This seems… It was the first time Hans had seen someone with the power to end entire civilizations struggle to find the right words. ...Wrong. Very wrong.

“Wrong? To keep someone alive?” Hans asked curiously. Anubis nodded. “What could possibly be wrong about-- ...Oh. oh. I see, I’m… sorry, I didn’t really... make the connection before.” Anubis looked away, and scratched the back of his neck again. It is fine. 

Either this was just as awkward for the old god as it was for Hans, or he found that particular wall socket very interesting all of a sudden. Hans sighed. “Leave it to me to ask the god of death what’s so bad about keeping people alive…” 

I do not think we should stay here. Anubis said softly. Hans nodded without looking up. I cannot leave you on this plane. You will have to return to the room of judgement. Hans looked at Anubis, eye to eye, and saw the god’s expression change slightly. “I can’t stay in there either, can I?” Hans asked flatly. Anubis shook his head sadly. Spirits can not stay there. If one of the others found them...

“Fed to Osiris, yeah, I heard.” Hans sighed. “I can’t stay here, I can’t go there… so, what? I just go back to limbo or something?” 

Anubis tilted his head in confusion.  Limbo…? Hans nodded. “You know, that place with the darkness that you can’t really feel anything in? Isn’t that where spirits go when they’re not bound for heaven or hell?” Anubis’ confused expression didn’t change.  The place you describe is only a passage. You could no more stay there as you could… sleep on an ocean wave, or step across the clouds.

“...Right.” The two looked at one another, each seeming to wonder what to do next. Eventually, and to the surprise of both of them, Anubis spoke up first.  I… may have a place. Temporary placement for you, until I can speak to the others and discuss what to do with your spirit. Hans smiled weakly. “I figured out what’s wrong with the tiles.” He muttered to himself. He glanced up at Anubis, who was looking at him expectantly. “No shadow. I don’t cast a shadow.” Hans sighed, and reluctantly stood up with the god of death.

“Well, I’m not getting any younger.” He said in a mockingly cheerful tone.  Nor are you aging. Anubis remarked as he passed Hans and made his way towards the door. Hans paused for a moment before following the jackal out of the room. “W-wait, really…?” 

The room was once again quiet and still, aside from the soft beep of the heart monitor, and the slow rise and fall of Hans’ chest. 

**

The short walk back through the hallways of the hospital was surreal. Hans watched as Anubis strode confidently down the middle of the hallway. Nurses and doctors, busily going to and fro, seemed to avoid him without even thinking about it. A family, cheerfully hugging their child, split apart for a few moments to allow Anubis and Hans to pass, without so much as a glance in their direction. “Is it always… like this?” Hans asked meekly. “When you walk in the, uh… m-mortal realm. Do people always get out of your way?” 

Anubis glanced backwards to him for only a moment.  What else would they do? He spoke so matter-of-factly that Hans almost found himself agreeing without a second thought, but he shook the thought out of his head as he followed the jackal down a second hallway. “N-no, but like… what about busy streets? Or traffic? Surely cars don’t go around you, too.” Anubis stopped dead, making Hans awkwardly stumble as to not walk directly into him. When he looked up, Hans was face to face with the pitch black god, those emerald eyes gazing down at him with stern authority. 

Do you have any idea how ancient I am? How long I have walked? Anubis asked.  Do you have any idea how many places I have seen, how many cultures these eyes have witnessed rise and fall?  If they weren’t stood in the middle of a relatively busy hospital, there would have been utter silence. Hans’ mouth refused to operate, so he was restricted to apologetic staring. Anubis huffed softly, and turned his back on the frightened bat.  I did not think so.

Anubis paced forwards once more, but this time Hans didn’t follow him. Something had just clicked in his mind, and now he stood there with a semi-confused grin, and his head tilted to one side. Nurses and doctors continued to weave around him as he took one step forwards towards the dark god. “We didn’t take this way when we came in.” He said, loud enough for the jackal to hear him. Anubis stopped walking. “You’re either taking me somewhere specific, in this… mortal realm, or…” 

 We may return now, if that is your wish. Anubis interrupted quickly.

“N-No, hold on, that means that you’re walking through a busy hospital--” 

 Truly, we should not waste time on this matter.

“--just so that you could show off how everybody walks around you.” 

 Listen to m--

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Hans finished, his grin wider as he stood there confidently. Anubis still hadn’t turned to look at him, but Hans could somehow tell he was having an effect. “You wanted to show off, didn’t you?” The jackal turned on his heels, slowly. As he did so, Hans’ confident, cocky grin slowly diminished, as those purifying white eyes shone against the clinically cleaned hospital walls. 

Do You Wish To Be Damned?

Hans coughed very softly to clear his throat. “Y-you said y-you can’t… damn me. B-because I’m n-not really… dead?” The end of the sentence did not come out anywhere near as demanding or confident as he had intended, but he was surprised that he even got the words out. “S-so… w-were you trying to i-impress me...?” 

The gold around Anubis’ neck and wrists shone brilliant rays that hurt Hans’ eyes to look at, his eyes a vast, shining whiteness. His body was as black as the bottom of the deepest mines, his voice was the echoes of ten thousand falling trees. His words were certain, defined, etched into the very heart of the earth. 

 PERHAPS. 

 Anubis, in the blinding glory of his fully godhood, scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 
It is not often a mortal sees a god and returns to the mortal realm, after all. I suppose I simply… wanted to make it an occasion for you. Hans didn’t want to offend the magnificent beast that he could barely lay eyes on, but he also couldn’t stop his impulse to smile. “I-I’m n-not… sure what to say.” He said softly. “...Thank you?” 

The jackal returned to the form Hans could actually look at and walked over to him, his newly non-spotlight-looking eyes darting away from Hans any time they got close. It has… been some time since I have had company. Anubis admitted. Once again, Hans had no idea how to respond. His natural friendly instincts took over his stunned body, and before he could tell it not to he found his hand gently patting the shoulder of the tall death god. “I-it’s okay.” He found himself saying, to his own surprise. Anubis smiled, showing off a shining white fang. “I guess people don’t… t-tend to hang around in the judgement hall very long, huh.” 

The last time I had a mortal pass through my chambers was many years ago. They begged and pleaded for divine mercy for what you would consider months. Hans was suddenly aware that his hand had been on Anubis’ shoulder for too long, and was afraid of the awkward light it would shine if he would take it off now. “Did, um… did they receive it?” he asked, his hand starting to tremble slightly.

Anubis grasped the claw of Hans and looked at his fluffy chest, either unable or simply unwilling to make eye contact.  They were judged fairly for their actions, and their heart weighed against the feather. It is the way of things. Hans nodded, not knowing what else to do. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Anubis let out a soft sigh and let go of his claw.  We can leave now.  Hans nodded again and closed his mouth, following the jackal through a darkened hallway.

Instead of another hallway or hospital room, as soon as Hans stepped through the threshold, he found himself in an empty void once again. Anubis was there, outlined only by his ever-illuminated golden accoutrimon and bright green eyes.  I am taking you to the place I reside. He said sternly. It is not for the weak of will, nor is it for those of lesser in constitution. Are you ready, young mortal?

Hans took a deep breath of what he could only assume was air, and nodded. This was it. The place he’d be staying until divine judgement is reached. The residence of Anubis, God of Death. He could only imagine what kind of arciac, sublime horrors he was about to-- 

There was no transition. No portal, no bright flash of blinding light.

Hans simply wasn’t, and then he was. 

In this case, he was stood on some remarkably soft grass in what appeared to be a clearing of some dense forest. In the middle of the clearing, to his utter confusion, was…

“O-ooh. Wow.” Hans said out loud. 

 Steady yourself, Mortal. Anubis announced loudly.  This sight is not one many of your kind have ever seen before! Allow yourself humility, be humbled by the architecture of this abode of the gods! He stood there, arms stretched out above him, clearly enjoying his display of power.

“It’s… cute.” Hans said, shrugging. Anubis looked at him, and then turned to look into the clearing.  Well… that’s not right. 

In the middle of the clearing, shaded by two evergreens growing out of the banks of a steady stream, was a cottage. An aged thatch roof supported by four wicker-and-hide walls, propped up in segments by wooden pillars that looked about as ancient as the rest of the house. Windows cut into the walls themselves were decorated by small ledges upon which birds occasionally landed, enjoying the soft shade supplied by the old wooden shutters.

Anubis scratched his head again.  No, this… this should be something more impressive. He said softly, almost to himself. Hans strode up next to him and shrugged again. “It’s cute.” He repeated. “It looks really cozy. I didn’t exactly expect the god of death to live somewhere like… this, but it’s pretty nice, considering. I was expecting like a pyramid or something.” He chuckled, and then stopped. Anubis seemed very unhappy with this whole situation.

He threw his arms dramatically at the cottage, in a way that Hans would not expect to have seen a god act. Then why is it not a pyramid?! Anubis shouted angrily.  Of course I see a cottage, but MORTALS are meant to see...

“...Whatever we expect to see?” Hans muttered. Anubis gave him a Look, to which Hans rolled his eyes. “It’s not that hard to figure out, you basically spelled it out yourself when we arrived. All that fancy hand-waving and vague talk of magnificent structures…” 

 Did I over do my performance? As I have said, it has been a very long time since--

“Since you’ve had company, yeah.” Hans said casually, scratching the back of his own neck to try and cope with the terror that comes with interrupting a god. “Yeah, I kinda… I’m starting to notice that.” 

Silence blossomed in the calm clearing. The soft babbling stream lent a calming texture to the otherwise constricting moment. Eventually, Hans spoke. “D-do… you want to go inside?” He asked, quite aware that he was inviting a god into his own home. Well if he’s not going to do it, I guess I should. He thought to himself. To his surprise, Anubis looked slightly... nervous.  Ah, yes. Please, come inside. 

Hans sighed as softly as he could as he watched Anubis make his way to the front door with what seemed like practiced ease. He must spend a lot of his time here. He thought to himself, before quickly asking exactly how much “a lot of time” would be to a god. Trying his best not to think about it, the young bat skipped quickly down to join his new divine friend at the front door, where there seemed to be some difficulty. 

The door hinge rattled as Anubis pushed on the round bar handle. Just give it a moment. Anubis said reasuredly, putting slightly more pressure on the door handle.  Sometimes the water gets into the wood, and-- Ah! There we go. With one final crack, the heavy door heaved inwards, revealing a large rounded central room. Hans stepped inside, and was greeted with the sweet smells of honey and barley. Anubis fiddled with the door closing method behind him as the young bat drank in his surroundings. 

In the middle of the room was a raised pedestal, pitched black from past fires. A beam of light shone down on the soot-covered surface, streaming through an open-sided area of raised roof. Around the fire pit were a series of cushions, which Hans assumed would before group sitting, at least that could be the case if all the cushions hadn’t been piled up on one side of the fire pit in a kind of make-shift cot. The thick curved wall surrounding the central area had several doorway-shaped holes cut into it; clearly some cut later than others, judging by the mix of materials used to fortify the doorways. Some had smooth, ornate clay outlinings, whereas others had raw oak hammered into the walls. 
 
 Mortals… do tend to see what they believe, in this place. Anubis said quietly behind Hans.  That is true of the only other mortals who have seen it.  Hans’ ear picked up the subtle sound of something to save for a later conversation. Obviously none but a bat would have been able to hear it. “So!” He said, as happily as he could manage given the circumstances. “Where, uh… where should I stay?” 

Anubis looked at Hans, around the room, and back to Hans. He looked like a lost dog, from the expression he was wearing. It did not fill Hans with hope. I am sorry. Anubis said softly, walking further into the room and disappearing into one of the many doorways.  I have not prepared myself for company, and as this place does not appear this way to most mortals...

He came back to the central room and stopped in front of Hans, his arms almost overflowing with small, multi-colored pillows. He had an awkward grin on his face. Some of the pillows were patchwork. Hans did his best not to laugh from the imagery alone, but instead took as many of the pillows as he could with solemn dignity. “Th-thanks.” He said in what he hoped was a respectful tone.

 You may rest opposite myself. Anubis gestured towards his own pile of well-used pillows by the fire pit.  You may find sleep in this realm to be… uncomfortable. For that, I can only apologise. Hans hand-waved the apology away, accidentally dropping a couple of pillows as he stumbled down into the main area. “I-it’s okay! Really!” He said. He dumped his sleeping pillows in a pile on the ground, hoping that it was an acceptable thing to do with what were technically gifts from God (or a god, at least), and chose one particular cushion to kneel upon. Anubis was already reclining in his own pillows, looking awkwardly around the room. A familiar silence bloomed, but this time Hans had ammunition to break it. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, A-Anubis…” The jackal’s head reluctantly turned to face Hans. “Who were the other mortals to see this place? Who could possibly have… taken so long to judge?” In the back of his mind, Hans was busy listing the world’s worst actors as far as he knew from history class. Perhaps one of them had begged for forgiveness? Perhaps a king, or a pharaoh...

Anubis took in a long breath and tilted his head up to the ceiling. His ears tilted forwards, and a smile spread across his divine lips. He spoke softly, as if recalling a dream he’d had long, long ago.

There once was a beggar…

------------------------------------------------

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I do not usually witness the birth of mortals, but this was something of a special occasion. This was a meeting of life and death - of myself and Bes.  He and I rarely met face to face, and certainly not while in witness of the mortal realm. He was there to comfort the child, and ensure its life was started in the proper manner. The mother of the child was my reason for leaving the judgement room. My excuse. 

I was not there for her.
I  tended to her, of course, as was my duty at the time. Bes coddled her through her difficulties in his own way, speaking silent words of encouragement and comfort. I never saw the point in that sort of thing personally, but it was not my place to speak on his practices. She would not ready to pass yet, and so I ventured to a local temple. Its flock was dedicated to me… at least, a version of me that they had concocted. It was a kinder version of my true self, a more loving and… practical god. They held no interest to me, however there was one who still believed in me, truthfully. There was no pretense or pressure, no fear of damnation should he abandon his thoughts o praising his god, because to the mortal world, he was almost as invisible as me. He was a begger, allowed by the apparent kindness of the shepard of that temple to fill the water dishes and stoke the fires before burnt offerings were held. He never asked for more food than he needed, never bothered the rich for extra coins, like many beggers. He was content, and I found that… interesting.

His name was Reki.

I had heard his heart. Unlike the others, he prayed on his own, in the seclusion of his bedroll or in moments of peace outside the temple’s walls. Occasionally, I would watch him, and wonder: Does he feel me watching him? What would he do, knowing his god’s eyes lay upon him each night? Of course thoughts of mortals are petty and simple compared to ours, however I found myself entranced by curiosity for what his may have been. So that night, standing upon the sands of the empty temple, I appeared to him. I woke him with a whisper in the dark, a feeling under his skin. When he arose, he stared me straight in my eyes and smiled. I could barely believe it! A human would rarely ever recognise a god in the mortal realm, let alone a believer, yet there he stood. Filled not with fear, nor with humility, but with gratitude. His heart spoke so he may not have to, and I listened. We spent the night together, understanding without words, before I was called to perform my rites of passage. The woman had finally passed, and I was required at the room of judgement. I left him in the same dusty corner I had found him, and he was just as content as I had arrived. I did not speak of him to any of the others, because… I feared they would misunderstand. That they may use him for some elaborate game with me. The last thing I wanted was for him to become some plaything to them, and yet I could not understand why that concerned me so. He was but one begger, one believer in a world of many. I found my thoughts often drifting back to that begger in the sand, huddling for shelter against the temple walls.

There were few other times I was duty-bound to walk the mortal plane after that, but each time I did I sought him out. Continents matter little to us, and nor does time, however years passed for him. Each time I saw him, I received the same comforting welcome. His temple grew and fell on its own idoacracies, his city went to war and crumbled, yet each time I came to him, he was content and happy for the company. Living off of fig trees, sleeping in old structures meant for livestock, the mortal world seemed to matter as little to him as it did to me.

Eventually, the time came when my duty was called for in the mortal realm one last time. I knew that I would see him, however I did not know that he was the reason for my journey. Thankfully none of the others came, as they were not needed; it was a simple soul that had refused to honour the last rites. When I came to him this time, he had aged many years since our first encounter. His body had become weak, frail. Starved by conditions he did not control, scarred by mistreatment from the other mortals, and yet still his heart sang out for me. He smiled when he saw me, laying naked on a dusty road. He tried to speak, but his mouth was filled with blood. Something about thieves, I believe; I knew what he wanted to say, and that was enough for me to comfort him. As I cradled him in my arms, he told me the one thing they did not manage to take from him was still promised to me, as it had been for all those years. Even as we passed on from the mortal world, his contentment warmed me. He did not enter the judgement room, instead electing to be taken to the underworld. When I had asked why he had chosen this path, he just… shook his head. 

He told me his heart could not be weighed, that from the moment he had seen me, it no longer belonged to him. I… admit now, what I decided to do was in poor judgement. I knew the others would find out, but nothing seemed to matter at that moment besides keeping him with me. His content smile grew as I told him we would not be leaving one another, and he came here, with me. He and I stayed here for as long as the others allowed. An eternity in mortal time, yet barely a moment to us. For a short time, he showed me what it was that made humans so special, so vital. I tried to convince him, to demand he come to the judgement room for the others to see as well, I swore that I would judge him favourably, but each time I tried he would simply smile that simple, contented smile, and tell me that he had already chosen his path. 

When we parted ways, we left a piece of ourselves with one another. It is a piece I feel the absence of, even to this day. I cannot help but wonder...

“Czhhn…” Hans muttered. Anubis tilted his head slightly, and looked down at the sleeping bat, snuggled happily into the pillows he had been afforded. The jackal smiled. I may not know why you are here, Anubis said softly, sliding down into a laying position.  But I am glad to have the company once more.

Thoughts of carnage and bloodshed filled his mind. Burning. Burning! The temple was burning! He had to find a way out, yet the body of his priest lay just two footsteps away. He was braying out for help through mouthfuls of thick smoke and ash, one bloody arm outstretched. “I’m trying!” The young pup shouted, but nothing came out. His mouth filled with terrible black smoke, darker than the deepest skies. He crawled towards his teacher, but faltered when he heard the great wooden beams above crack and splinter. The roof was collapsing. The raging mix of hell fire and charring wood engulfed them both in one great heave of heat and ash.

 s-SMOKE! Anubis yelled, jolting upright from his makeshift cot. There was smoke; it was coming out of the small fire pit that had been lit in the center of the room, and it was a perfectly ordinary colour. Anubis looked around with tired eyes, and spotted his guest Hans, frozen in place with a horrified expression on his face and holding a small bowl in his arms. Do not worry... He said groggily, waving his paw dismissively.  It was simply an observation.

“Y-you said it… really loudly.” Hans observed, carefully sitting down in his sleeping pillows on the other side of the fire pit. The fire wasn’t even that large, Anubis noticed, staring into it with his eyes half-open. It seemed to have been made of loose twigs, barely half a branch’s worth. Was he really startled by such a pathetic fire?

 What are you eating? He said, attempting to move the conversation along. He wiped the tiredness away from his eyes before realising he was meant to be a divine being of perfect grace, and instead tried to subtly flex his arms. Hans didn’t seem to notice. 

“Jush’ shum berriesh ah fount.” The bat said, pushing another bright berry between his lips and munching softly. “Sheesh bushesh ah geshin oushgrown, y’knoh…” Hans stopped mid-chew as he saw the god looking at him, albeit slightly unsteadily, from the other side of the cot pit. He managed to swallow, and smiled apologetically. “S-sorry.” He muttered. “Bad habit, I know…” 

  All human habits are bad. Anubis said, rolling his eyes. He stood up, flexed his back slowly and turned to face the small mortal.  Was there no game to be found? He asked, a slight hint of tired frustration in his voice. Hans looked at him blankly, making Anubis sigh.  Meat, little one, meat. Often it is found running on four legs. Why would you resort to berries, do they not teach hunting any more?

Hans surreptitiously slipped another blackberry into his cheek. “U-uh, t-they do, I… suppose, b-but I don’t eat meat. I-I’m a bat. ...Sir.” He added just in case. He still wasn’t quite sure the proper way of addressing a divine being, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to at least make an effort. 

He tried to put out of his mind that in this case, the damning might be quite literal. He held up his arm to show his wing membrane for extra emphasis, which only seemed to frustrate the jackal even more.

The blood of the forest is sacred, mortal. You should have been taught that already. Anubis sighed again, somewhat more dramatically, and turned to the main door.  In this case, I suppose I shall have to fcatch my own food for the day.  Without another word, he walked up the short steps, opened the door to the shining outside, and left. Hans sat awkwardly with his small bowl of fruit next to his smouldering fire pit.

“...I didn’t know I was meant to fetch food.” He grumbled, breaking apart a small peach pit with his front teeth. “Didn’t even know gods did eat, I don’t know how I’m just expected to know all of this stuff… Ah, shit.” The peach pit had crumbled in his mouth, spilling some plant meat down the front of his hoodie. He brushed it hurriedly back into his bowl, but felt something firm in his pocket. Tilting his head, he slipped one claw into the fabric folds and remembered… 

“Oh… SHIT.” He exclaimed. He held the ankh up in the light, the shining gold surface gleaming like Anubis’ collar piece. “This is probably a… thing.” Hans finished lamely. I don’t know what KIND of thing, he thought to himself, but it’s definitely a sign or something. Maybe this has something to do with why I’m here?

The sound of rustling grass came from outside, and Hans barely got the ankh back into his pocket before the form of Anubis blocked the light out from the doorway. Hans couldn’t quite make it out, but it seemed like the jackal was holding something across his lean-set shoulders.  This, He said as he tossed the two hundred pound corpse onto the floor in front of Hans,  Is MEAT.

The doe was definitely made of meat, Hans could see that much from the amount of blood on its pelt. If he had seen this in the wild, he’d have assumed a pack of wolves had gotten to it. Several packs of wolves, maybe. Big ones, with a grudge to settle. Anubis grinned down at the bat, panting softly. His fangs shone like white gold in the sunlight, and the way his pitch-black fur was lit from behind made him look like he had a dark, wispy aura around him.

“  N-nice.  ” Hans squeaked out. Anubis let out a soft chuckle. I can imagine you have never seen such a beautiful bounty in your world, mortal. It is normal to be impressed with such a haul! It’s a dead deer. “I-I can’t find the words.” Hans said softly. It was alive, and now it’s dead. Anubis grinned again, seemingly appeased by his words and too distracted by the carcass he’d dumped in front of the bat to notice the subtle change in his mood.  I will take it to the kitchen this time. I doubt your frail body could take such a weight all at once. 

“You’d be surprised at what this body can take.”

Anubis looked at Hans. Hans looked back at Anubis. Neither one wanted to address what was just said, but despite wills to the contrary, it had indeed just been said. 

 I will just--

“Y-yeah, I n-need to get some--”

 I’m going to take this into--

“M-more fruit, I need some more fruit…”

 Yes, into the kitchen, I will… be in the kitchen.

Both Anubis and Hans left the circular room; Hans ran up the steps and past Anubis as quickly as his legs would carry him, and Anubis dragged the dead animal through one of the portals, leaving a faint trail of blood along the floor as he did so. Outside, Hans was trying to rip his own face off in embarrassment. 

“  GAAHHHRRRR!  ” He screamed into his own claws. “Normal! Why couldn’t you just be NORMAL and not say stuff like that?!” He kicked a fallen leaf, which toppled up and gently floated back to the ground. “What is wrong with you?! He’s a god!” He walked over to the fruit bush he had previously harvested and sat down with his head between his knees, grumbling to himself. Perhaps he could go inside after his face had stopped burning. Alternatively, Hans’ inner voice suggested, I could throw myself into the river. I wonder if you can even die here? With how things had been going, it may well be worth a shot.

--

Anubis slung the animal onto his chopping slab with great ease, and absent-mindedly picked up a black cleaver.  What an odd thing to say. He muttered, as if speaking to the deer he was preparing.  I have certainly not pressured him into anything, I am certain. What in this world would entice him to say something as… suggestive as that? He shrugged to himself and decapitated the animal in one smooth downward slice, letting the head roll to one side of the chopping table.  Perhaps language truly has changed since…       since…          

He shook his head, and left the cleaver impregnated into the thick wooden counter. He wouldn’t think about it, not if he could at all help it. He picked out a small black carving knife, cricked his neck to one side, and began his work. There are fewer things more divine than taking one’s mind off of trivial matters by caring for a meal, he considered.  That mortal will be salivating soon enough...

A brief moment of pause later, Anubis was grinning to himself. Perhaps he was getting better at this new form of language. It certainly provoked… interesting imagery. Before long, Anubis’ mind was entirely focused on carving the delectable specimen in front of him, and all the thoughts of the admittedly cute bat had left his mind.

For the moment, at least.